


We'll Meet Again

by Aenova



Series: The Sweetest Treasure [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Quickie, Some Fluff, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenova/pseuds/Aenova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock pulled his scarf off and carelessly dropped it to the floor as he slammed the door behind him shut, turning to face his sitting room. He wasn't surprised to see Jim casually relaxing on the armchair and raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>"You couldn't think of a bit more dramatic way of stopping my inevitable death?" he asked, shucking his coat and walking to the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the characters, all credit to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the BBC Sherlock's creators.
> 
> Okay, this is part three in my series, and I plan to write at least parts four, five and six, too. Maybe even more, but we'll see. :) English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes.

Sherlock was exhausted.

 

Even when sometimes he'd spent _hours_ running after criminals and chasing murderers while on cases, he'd never in his entire life felt this tired. His whole body screamed for him to go to sleep and stop listening to John's anxious questions about Moriarty's return, and when the cab finally stopped in front of 221B Baker Street, he gladly waved goodbye to his friend and Mary, walking up the stairs to his flat.

 

He'd shot Magnussen in the head, right in front of John, just like he and Jim had agreed on doing if the situation would require it. Mycroft had been able to stop him from going to prison, but he'd been sent to a suicide undercover mission where he would've had six months to live.

 

Jim had stopped him from going.

 

The words "did you miss me" spoken in a weird, high-pitched voice were still ringing inside his head, just like John and Mary's questions and Mycroft's suspicious stares still burned the back of his head.

 

Sherlock pulled his scarf off and carelessly dropped it to the floor as he slammed the door behind him shut, turning to face his sitting room. He wasn't surprised to see Jim casually relaxing on the armchair and raised an eyebrow.

 

"You couldn't think of a bit more dramatic way of stopping my inevitable death?" he asked, shucking his coat and walking to the kitchen. Tea. He needed tea.

 

He heard Jim's content chuckle from the sitting room and the slight creak of the chair as the criminal stood. Not more than three seconds after that Sherlock felt the man's arms wrapping around his waist. He couldn't stop the twitch in the corner of his mouth as a smile made its way to his face.

 

"You did well", Jim murmured against the back of Sherlock's neck, pressing a kiss to the skin. Sherlock shivered.

 

"Thank you", he answered, turning around. "You weren't so bad yourself." Jim smirked and let Sherlock press his palms against the smaller man's back, pulling him closer. "What are you going to do now that everyone knows you're alive?"

 

"Continue exactly like before", Jim said with a shrug, stepping forward so that Sherlock was pressed against the kitchen cabinet. "No-one ever gets to me", the criminal whispered with an impish look in his eyes, not objecting when Sherlock pressed their lips together.

 

Sherlock remembered how Jim had once, many years ago, said that they were made for each other. He hadn't understood it then, but now, after spending so much time with the man and acting almost too domestic with him, he really didn't know how he'd been able to go on without it. The closeness and the excitement. The fact that he knew Jim was always somewhere for him, with him, waiting for him.

 

The sleuth felt the weariness gradually leaving his body, only to be replaced by a familiar, warm feeling of arousal, gathering up in his stomach. He grabbed the back of Jim's suit jacket and ground their hips together, receiving a satisfying growl from the other man. The tea could definetely wait.

 

Sherlock pushed Jim against the kitchen table, jumping slightly as he heard one of his empty testing tubes falling to the floor and shattering by their feet. The criminal didn't seem to even notice as he was preoccupied, opening Sherlock's shirt buttons.

 

"Daddy doesn't have much time", he said, pulling away for a while to look into Sherlock's eyes.

 

"Yes, I know, I estimated that Mycroft's team will be here in eighteen minutes", the sleuth answered after glancing at the clock. "He thinks I'll need protection from now on."

 

Jim chuckled and pushed the shirt off Sherlock, letting it fall to the floor. "Perhaps he's right. You do trust me awfully easily."

 

"Shouldn't I?" Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, his fingers attacking the criminal's belt buckle. Jim smirked, grabbing the detective's hair and pulling him into another kiss, shoving a hand against the man's chest to send them back against the cabinet, Sherlock groaning as his back hit it rather forcefully.

 

"This shouldn't take too long. We'll probably have enough time for me to honourably walk through the door when I leave, instead of climbing out of the window", the criminal said and kneeled down, pulling the sleuth's trousers down and grabbing his erection. Sherlock gasped as he felt Jim taking him into his mouth and his hands went to grab the man's hair.

 

"When will I see you again?" he managed to ask, the ending of his sentence mixing with a moan as Jim sucked him _hard_ , holding his hips with one hand and using the other to get himself off.

 

"Do you want to talk about it _now_ , sexy?" the criminal asked with a slightly mocking tone, pulling away. Sherlock scowled, tugging the man back by his hair.

 

"No, of course not", he hissed, closing his eyes as Jim's lips were on his cock again, tongue performing miracles. Sherlock's hips jerked, trying to get closer, and a strangled cry slid from his lips. Jim moaned around him and the sleuth noticed faintly that the other man was almost there himself. The knowledge alone made his vision go almost white and he bit his lip to stop all the embarrassing noises from streaming from his mouth - though Jim had always praised how he liked to hear them.

 

Sherlock's grip in the criminal's hair tightened and his whole body tensed when he came, a loud moan echoing through the room. He looked down to see Jim swallowing everything and then pressing a kiss to Sherlock's hipbone before rising to his feet and letting his lips curve to a small smirk.

 

Sherlock was still panting and leaned against the cabinet to hold himself upright as he watched Jim properly dress up.

 

"See now, we still have just over five minutes", the shorter man said and raised an eyebrow. Sherlock hummed in response.

 

"Where are you going to, now?" he asked.

 

"One of my residences in London", Jim answered, "it'll be _adorable_ to watch them play hide and seek with me." Sherlock's lips curved a bit and he sighed, lifting his shirt from the floor and starting to button it back up.

 

He knew he shouldn't have worried about the criminal getting caught, since he was the master of pulling the strings and making everything run smoothly. Sherlock had no idea how wide Jim's criminal web actually reached, but he was fairly certain that it was enough to make him almost completely immune.

 

"Don't do that", Jim said and scoffed.

 

Sherlock frowned. "Do what?"

 

"You've so much more useful issues to ponder about with your pretty brain, darling. Don't waste it like that." Jim's lips curved and he chuckled. "You've become sentimental."

 

Sherlock didn't bother to answer since he knew that Jim was right. What did it matter? So he had become sentimental, but he also knew he wasn't the only one. He smirked to the other man and forwarded his thoughts with a glimmer in his eyes, making Jim shake his head and smile. It was the rare smile - a _real_ smile, and Sherlock always enjoyed seeing it.

 

"Two minutes left", he noted.

 

"Hm. I should leave", Jim mused, straightening his jacket. "I'll see you soon, honey." With a kiss to the corner of Sherlock's mouth he was out of the door. Sherlock frowned and walked to the window, watching the other man walk along the street. Just as Jim disappeared behind the corner, Sherlock saw one of Mycroft's black cars stopping in front of 221B. He knew that there were many signs indicating he'd just had sex with someone, but he didn't bother trying to hide them. Mycroft probably already knew. Sherlock chuckled and turned around, getting ready for the door to open. If he could've stopped worrying and if he could've forgotten for a moment that he'd shot Magnussen, he would've probably thought that this was fun.

 

Well, maybe he already did. Just a bit.


End file.
